


beat around the bush

by thunderylee



Category: Japanese Actor RPF, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-04-10
Packaged: 2019-01-21 12:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12457548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: What I Want: she meets him in a recording studio, cunnilingus (beatboxing), against the wall or in a closet, rushed and at risk of being caught.





	beat around the bush

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for an anonymeme.

Usually Nakamaru’s kind of girl-stupid, but when Naka Riisa locks them in the recording studio after the rest of his group has left for a break, he has a pretty good idea why.

“Um,” he says eloquently, because right now he’s anything but.

“Don’t just stand there,” she hisses, hands on hips, and he blinks at her. “We don’t have much time.”

“For wha-?” Nakamaru starts, but the rest of his question dies on her tongue and his instincts take over. His senses are infiltrated with vanilla and when his brain catches up with him, he’s got both arms wrapped around her waist with her body pressed firmly against his. He feels her breasts against his chest and groans low in his throat.

“Kame was right, you _are_ easy,” she whispers, and he narrows his eyes.

“Don’t talk about him right now,” he growls, and he could swear she shivers in his hold as he he claims her mouth again, this time on _his_ terms.

It’s Riisa who pulls them toward the the sound board, though, hopping up onto the edge and wrapping her legs around his waist invitingly. He feels her heat against his rapidly hardening dick and wild horses couldn’t stop him from moving against her, hips rocking into the delicious friction his khakis create with her skirt, at least until it hikes up enough for him to feel even more of her.

“Fuck yes,” Riisa breathes, pulling him further on top of her. “I’ve always wondered, you know.”

“Wondered what?” he asks innocently, although he’s positive the answer is anything but.

“What it feels like,” she answers, “to be the microphone into which you beatbox.”

He pulls back enough to look at her, meeting her challenging eyes, but her fingers in his hair are encouraging if not a bit forward; Nakamaru feels himself being pushed down, his mouth parting from hers and dragging down her chin and neck. He takes over when he reaches her chest, deftly popping the buttons on her blouse as he noses inside her bra to kiss and lick her breasts, taking pride in the way she arches up to him.

“Nakamaru-kun,” she whispers, her voice rushed and desperate as she pushes down on his shoulders. “Hurry.”

Licking his lips, Nakamaru meets her eyes once more before straddling the stool in front of the sound board and lifting her legs over his shoulders. He’s done this before, of course, but usually with steady girlfriends and not a complete stranger whom he only knows from TV and mutual friends. She smells so good, though, even when he pulls aside the crotch of her panties and is overcome with feminine arousal, and nothing can stop him from leaning in to lap at her.

“ _Yes_ ,” she moans, and he has a sudden urge to hear her say his name. “Right there, god, I knew you’d be good at this.”

It was definitely the right thing to say; now Nakamaru has absolutely no qualms about doing this with here, becoming more confident in his licks and flicking his tongue under her clit as fast as he can. Remembering her request, he gives a tentative puff of air and has to hold her down by the hips to keep from getting bucked in the face. Her shrill noise of appreciation is delayed, and Nakamaru finds temporary comfort in the fact that this room is soundproof as he adds a couple more beats to his impromptu rhythm.

“Fuck yes,” she says again, shamelessly writhing all over the soundboard from the pressure of his mouth on her. “More, Nakamaru-kun.”

He beatboxes faster, feeling her thighs start to tremble on either side of his face, and he lets go of one hip to swirl a finger inside her. Her body takes to him right away, squeezing him from multiple angles and Nakamaru groans at the thought of this potentially being his length if she lets him go that far, if they have time. He pushes in another finger and bends them up, moving his fingertips back and forth as he continues his impromptu beatbox solo on her clit until it twitches against his tongue, his fingers held captive by her muscles as her body lurches in orgasm and he has to hold her steady to keep her from rolling right off the soundboard.

“Oh my _God_ ,” she breathes, her chest heaving, and Nakamaru tries not to smirk as he leans up and wipes his mouth. “That was _amazing_.”

“Thanks,” he replies, feeling awkward again, though the arms that pull her into his lap are unwavering. “My turn?”

“Hmm,” Riisa says thoughtfully, looking around the room until her eyes land on a clear patch of wall by the door. “There. You can take me there.”

“Take you…” Nakamaru repeats, then he _gets_ it and ignores her gentle laugh at his widened eyes.

It’s her eyes that widen in surprise when he picks her right up, carrying her over to the wall and pinning her up against it while he unfastens his pants and grabs the condom Jin snuck into his wallet two years ago (hasn’t expired yet!). Her hands slip down to stroke him before he can stop her, and he directs his groan into her neck.

“Come on,” she urges him, taking the foil packet from his hand and rolling the latex on him herself. Then there’s nothing stopping him from pushing inside her except her panties, which he slides down one of her legs before flattening her against the wall as he enters her.

It’s hard and fast, hot and sweaty and all he can smell is vanilla, which is even more poignant on her neck and his coherence dwindles completely, replaced with his primal desire to _fuck_ and that’s exactly what he does. His hands lower to grab her by her ass and pull her against him with each thrust forward, her moans growing deeper as his cock does the same inside her, and he feels her start to come again before she cries out his surname into his ear.

“Call me Yuichi,” he pants into her skin.

“ _Yu_ ichi-kun,” she moans, and Nakamaru has to use more force to push through her orgasm. “Come for me, Yuichi-kun.”

“Riisa-san,” he gets out as he stops holding back, thrusting a few more times until there’s nothing left to give, and it takes all of his energy not to slump to the floor. “What the hell…”

Riisa laughs as she stands up, cringing a bit as she stretches her legs and returns her clothes to an acceptable level of decency. “Quick – I hear voices.”

Still disoriented, Nakamaru barely tosses the condom into the trash can and fastens his pants before Riisa flips the lock on the door. Less than a minute later, the rest of KAT-TUN to come stumbling in, fresh from their cigarette or snack breaks (or in Taguchi’s case, alternating between playing Angry Birds and sexting with his girlfriend), and Nakamaru tries to look nonchalant.

“Rii-chan, you’re still here?” Kame teases her, and Nakamaru won’t meet his eyes. “Didn’t your session end awhile ago?”

“Yuichi-kun was teaching me how to beatbox,” she lies smoothly, and Nakamaru catches Koki raising an eyebrow at the use of his first name. “I’m not very good at it, though.”

“Keep practicing,” Kame encourages her. “Nakamaru is a good teacher.”

“He is,” Riisa agrees, and Nakamaru knows he’s blushing under her stare. “Maybe when I get better, I can return the favor.”

It takes Nakamaru a second to catch onto her meaning, and the thought of her beatboxing on _him_ has his blood racing. “I look forward to it, Riisa-san.”

She’s barely out the door before Kame slings an arm over his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

Nakamaru pretends not to notice the sound mixer looking confused at the altered settings, but Kame just pats him on the back and returns to work.


End file.
